


Winter

by Lintu



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dealing With Loss, Mentions of Character Death, mourning and grief, topics of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintu/pseuds/Lintu
Summary: Golden eyes were but his ghost.





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

> My depression has really been bad recently and I channeled it into this vent-Drabble. I really miss Ambulon, he deserved better, more, and I know it's silly to be sad all this time over the loss of a fictional character, but that's just how it be sometimes.

You can’t ever be really free if you admire somebody too much. He knew.

When you admire someone, love someone, they never leave. You're can never be free. Forever holding onto what remains, a ghost, it could be bittersweet.

As of right now all it felt was hollow. Coming back to work as if nothing had changed when everything had changed. No, one loss hardly could out weigh another, and if there was one thing this crew knew it was loss. Never made it easier to adjust to.

Preceptor had lost Tripodeca. Chromedome had lost Rewind. They'd all lost Pipes, even if he never truly had one member of the crew he seemed to belong closely to. These were all shared losses, that everyone could relate to in some way shape or form altering their lives. 

There was never to be another movie night hosted by Rewind. There would never be another follow up on Tripodeca's gyros. Never another patch job on one of Pipe's detached limbs after being at the wrong place at the wrong time of one of Whirl's impromptu bar fights.

Ratchet had tried to get him to come out, honestly he had. Even dragged Rung in for a forced intervention. Nothing other than a heavy work load really, truly brought First Aid out of his office or his habsuite anymore. It was just too much. To be haunted by ghosts of what was or what could have been. 

Time would pass, nobody noticed him fading off. Well. Ratchet and Rung had noticed, but had that not been the nature of their jobs, it left First Aid wondering just how involved they'd truly be.

It was selfish, First Aid thought, to mope around like this. Everyone had lost something, someone, he was not special. Yet, he could not find it in himself to move past what had happened. As if time stood still, not moving at all, while simultaneously passing him by in a rapid whirlwind. Each day blended into the next. Exhaustion, depression, lethargy. 

He had read once, while on Earth, that winter always ends eventually. Spring would return once again. Cybertron didn't have seasons, not like Earth had, and at the time he could not truly grasp why it was that Humans felt the need to remind themselves of this. Factually yes, all seasons came and went, passing in due time. Now, he understood.

This was his winter. Ambulon's death was his winter. And soon, spring would come. The pain would be more manageable, and perhaps he would feel something past a sense of lingering dread. Spring was a concept unfamiliar, unfathomable while it felt as if his spark was frozen over. 

Yes, one day spring would come, but it was to be a long winter.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes that is my favorite Snufkin quote, don't @ me.


End file.
